Standing Tall Like Trees: From Gaza to Canada
How do trees survive when fall strips them of their green leaves, and snow suffocates them, turning them into rigid white ghosts that frighten birds and leave no room to breathe?
How do trees survive when fall strips them of their green leaves, and snow suffocates them, turning them into rigid white ghosts that frighten birds and leave no room to breathe?
The problem with this city has always been not a lack of love, but that intimacy, affection and love hang in the atmosphere and suffocate, just out of the population’s reach. Whenever I walk around its wide and ordered streets, I imagine myself colliding with tiny particles of human warmth, but never grasping them.
Why versify a recipe, let alone an entire recipe collection?
“I am a walking dissonance, a transmission without a terminal.”
On May 1st—yes, May in May—the English translation of Sawanih Fatat (Musings of a Young Woman) by May Ziadeh arrives as the second title in ArabLit’s ERASED, NOT FORGOTTEN series, following Out of Time: The Collected Short Stories of Samira Azzam (tr. Ranya Abdelrahman).
“We passed a vast area near my house in Mazzeh, its surface covered with unfinished cement buildings. The driver told me it was a residential and commercial development owned by Asma al-Assad. The next day, one torture survivor told me the purpose of the project was to hide corpses[.]”
On a review that nearly didn’t happen.
Publisher and managing director of Saqi Books, Lynn Gaspard, on what it means to publish as your world faces destruction.
This essay, by the extraordinary Syrian writer Samar Yazbek, appears in our latest issue, SYRIA: Fall of Eternity, ed. Ghada Alatrash and Fadi Azzam.